


Since I've Been Loving Porn

by alwaysthrowsscissors



Series: Silly Fics for Fun Reasons [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Busty Asian Beauties (Supernatural), Childhood Memories, Crack, Lovely graphic description of the female body, Masturbation, Nostalgia, Nostalgic Dean Winchester, Other, Porn, Porn Magazines, crack with heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29467710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysthrowsscissors/pseuds/alwaysthrowsscissors
Summary: The epic love story of a man and his favourite skin mag.ORDean comes across his porn collection and takes a walk (and a jerk) down memory lane.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Other(s)
Series: Silly Fics for Fun Reasons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187585
Comments: 21
Kudos: 15
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Since I've Been Loving Porn

Dean wouldn’t categorize himself as a slob, but he certainly had never been as tidy as Sam. The fastidious bitch had been by his room in the bunker that afternoon and turned his sharp nose up at the mess, and yah, now that Dean was starting to collect the many empty bullet packages, spray paint cans, and beer bottles, he guessed Sam had a point; it was getting a little out of hand. These things just tended to scatter and become forgotten when he unpacked his duffel.

He was now on his knees getting a pretty hefty pile of dirty clothes together, bobbing his head to the A side of Zeppelin III, a pretty underrated album in his opinion since most people drool over IV and it got relatively divided critiques back in the day, but, frankly, Lester Bangs can go fuck himself, when he leaned down to feel around under the bed. His fingers caught the edge of a cardboard box and he dragged it out, intrigued.

“Oh, hello ladies,” Dean murmured, a warm, loving smile spreading across his lips. They were busty, they were Asian, and goddamn were they beauties. The box was filled with dozens of his favourite magazines tucked away for safekeeping. It had been a long while since he had enjoyed the simple pleasures of a skin mag. These days, all he needed was Sam’s laptop and a strong enough wifi signal to not only access bustyasianbeauties.com for pictures of lovely ladies, but to view actual, readily available videos of people fucking.

He hauled the box onto his bed, knees popping as he stood. As he started rifling through the issues, his hand landed on the first one he ever got. He cracked it open and started leafing through, grinning when he saw the tell-tale signs of the early 90’s in the style of hair and makeup. A pang of nostalgia cut through Dean so deeply, that he shut his eyes as the memory of that scrappy twelve-year-old boy tasked with grabbing road food and paying for gas, intruded him.

_While John called uncle Bobby about the case they were headed to, Dean grabbed the usual stuff: jerky, water, granola bars, Poptarts, pretzels, chemical-riddled hoagies. Maybe Dad would be ok with him getting some penny candy for Sammy. As he meandered, he came across the magazines. The new height he had achieved that year finally allowed him to get a good eyeful of the rack that held the nudie mags. It was certainly not the first time Dean had seen one. Hell, he and Sam had peeped through Penthouses they found at Bobby’s place plenty of times before, even though they were too young to really understand what the fuss was about._

_There were so many hot, near-naked women, his brain stalled and his skin flushed hot. Most were blonde with fluffy hair and beach-tanned skin. Amongst the soft, pastel tones and white panties, a bright red cover drew him in. Picking up the perverse volume sent a trill of excitement through his body. There was something alluring about the bold, angular lettering, the foreign characters peppered amongst the English, the woman’s long, black, shiny hair, red lingerie, gorgeous almond-shaped eyes, lips like drops of blood on snow. In that moment only him and the magazine existed. Holding her felt like destiny, like he just caught lightning in a bottle. She was the most stunning woman he had ever seen, and he had to have her._

_Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the clerk was busying himself with restocking the cigarettes. Dean turned slowly with the magazine behind his back, waiting for his moment. When the clerk turned around to shelve more cartons behind the counter, Dean nimbly stuffed the magazine in the back of his pants, covering it with his shirt and jacket. He then casually grabbed a bag of chips and did one last innocent lap before he approached the counter, littering it with his items. The man rang him up._

_“Plus the gas for the Chevy out there and gimmie a dollar’s worth of penny candy,” Dean said confidently._

_“That’ll be $52.40, kid.”_

_“Huh? The gas was only fifteen.”_

_"I said…$52.40.” The man raised his brows and gave Dean a stern but not unkind look._

_Dean forked over the cash quietly, took his change, and high-tailed it out of there. He was lucky the guy didn’t get him in shit with his dad let alone actually let him buy the magazine. He argued with John the rest of the trip, swearing up and down that he had only given him forty bucks, that he was dead wrong about giving him sixty._

Opening his eyes, smiling softly, he began looking through the box again. These fantasy girls had been with him nearly his whole life, steadfast, loyal, comforting. A companion for his teenaged horniness, successfully stolen countless times after that day and smuggled across the country in the false bottom he had sewn into his duffel. He’s not sure why he hid them so adamantly and for so long from his father. Maybe he just needed a secret that he could keep all to himself, a part of himself tucked away since Dad always claimed that privacy and lies were like a malignant tumour in a family of hunters. Growing up on the road, he needed them when it was too conspicuous to look at porn websites in random libraries, and before he learned how to charm woman. He never had to worry about the busty girlies judging him for being too young, too strange, too scrawny. They never failed to look up at him with flirty seduction, making him feel like a stud.

Much like childhood imaginary friends, once he was old enough, he needed the magazines less and less. John started letting them stay in one place for longer stints, playing at a real life more often. It helped Dean feel stable enough to stretch his legs and explore his sexual prowess, trading glossy pages for soft skin, exotic beauties for girls next door. Soon the magazines were passed down to Sam who never took as much interest in them as Dean did. He still kept his favourites, though, all these years. The stowed box of faded, battered, crusty-paged issues was telling enough that he wasn’t able to part with them, despite the changing times. They were family just as much as Sam, John, and Bobby were.

Dean finds a particular one that was always an ol’ faithful, both with respect to reliability and with obvious geyser implications. The potentially politically questionable words “East meets West” framed the cover woman’s body. His gaze swept the beautiful features of her face under the brim of her cowboy hat, skating down to her full, barely covered tits. Dean bit his bottom lip as the song changed, the first few bluesy notes of ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’ giving him a delicious tug of arousal low in his gut. The song never failed to make him feel a little… _sexy_. Grinning, he thought to himself _why the fuck not._

He threw the magazine on the bed, checked the lock on his door, and hastily began ridding himself of his pants. Dean plopped down on the bed, leaning against the head board, and was about to spit in his hand to be quick and dirty about it, when he decided he deserved to grab the bottle of lube from his nightstand. It had been a while since he treated himself and even longer since he had gotten laid. They had just been on the road for almost a month, doing back-to-back jobs, with no time to sample the local fare. This led to quietly jerking off in motel showers, or quickly tugging one out while Sam was gone to grab food or supplies.

He slowly flipped through the magazine, pausing here and there to gaze at the lovely ladies, palming himself almost lazily through his boxers, cock fattening up to half mast, until he found the centrefold. A gorgeous, Asian beauty sitting on a cowhide rug, draped backwards over a saddle. Her huge, luscious, bare breasts perked up into the air, silk kimono falling off her shoulders, her thighs spread, exposing her pussy. She held a fan in one hand and a bullwhip in the other, the tail of which was wrapped around her thigh. Fairly heavy handed, but, damn if he didn’t love a crossover.

He laid the magazine on the bed next to him and lifted his hips, tugging his boxers to his knees. Lubing up his hand, he fisted his cock, feeling it throb into full hardness after a few long tugs. He let out a soft groan at the familiar rasp of his calloused hand. He started stroking himself in earnest, heart thumping, as he parted his lips, breathing becoming ragged. Head tipping back against the headboard, his eyes objectified the beauty’s body, taking in the voluptuous swell of her tits, pert rosebud nipples, the soft, sexy curve of her hip, lower between her thighs, delicious velvet, the most perfect shade of pink. How many times had he jerked off to her? How many zip codes, how many dingy motel bathrooms with flickering florescent lights, muffling his adolescent whines and panting?

Left hand fisted into his sheets, Dean’s stomach muscles clenched as he stroked his cock faster, squeezing harder, letting his thumb drag over the swollen head on every stroke. Page’s shredding, hot guitar solo made his nipples hard under his shirt. He wet his lips imagining what it would be like to lick and suck her tits, hands tangled in her long, silky hair, going lower and lower until he tasted her pussy, getting her ready to fuck.

He was so undone, his hips rocked, lifting off the bed, fucking into his strong hand, bottom lip bitten hard and held between teeth in an attempt to hold back breathy moans. Intense pleasure mounted, tingling in the base of his spine, twisting low in his stomach. He felt his balls tighten up as he chased his climax and rucked up his shirt up to avoid shooting his load on it (he had more than enough laundry to deal with as it was). He took one last look at that coiled bullwhip, imagining himself gripping her hip above it as he fucked his cock inside her tight wet heat, when he came hard over his fist, painting his stomach, a gritted out “fuck!” thrust through clenched teeth.

He panted, grinning, letting his heartrate come down before reaching for a dirty sock to wipe himself off with. Dean got up, dressed, and gathered the magazines back into the box. He hesitated mid toss when he got to miss cowboy. Smirking, he shoved her into his bedside table. For old time’s sake.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously though, go listen to that Zepp song it's smokin hot!
> 
> Why did I take a break from my usual Wincest shenanigans to write such a silly fic? Head over here to find out and join the fun! https://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/


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